


michael 1

by romanticalgirl



Series: December Ficlets 2007 [44]
Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 13:31:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 12-7-07</p>
    </blockquote>





	michael 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 12-7-07

Michael knows how to get out of almost any situation you can name. He knows trap doors and excuses, alibis and how to set off a detonator when he truly needs a distraction. None of that, of course, helps a single damn bit when it comes to dinner with his family.

Madeline has guilt down to an art form, manipulating the few buttons that Michael still has, the ones worn down from use as a kid, but left alone for twenty years as he roamed the world, finding other buttons to push and be pushed, things that didn’t cut so deep as a breath of cigarette smoke and the smooth taste of a shot of contraband whiskey while in the kitchen under the guise of doing something else.

Nate makes it even harder, because Michael looks at him and wonders if he could have done better by his brother, if he doesn’t owe something to Nate for leaving him to deal with whatever got left behind. The way Michael figures it though, it had to be easier with him gone. His dad saw Michael and saw red. Nobody else got hurt unless they got caught in the crossfire.

Still, there’s pork chops that are too dry, Shake-N-Baked to death and drowned in Worchestshire sauce and Rice-A-Roni on the side, chicken and mushroom flavor, and ice tea that’s too sweet on his tongue, against his teeth. Madeline dumps a bag of salad in a bowl and calls it dinner, waiting until they all choke down the first bite before she lights her cigarette and blows smoke across the room.

Michael eats quickly, his eyes moving around the room for signs of weapons or traps, watching the shadows across the window at Nate’s back. It’s habit and he can’t help it, even though he knows that any danger to him lies inside this house more than beyond the walls, and he’s as safe as he can be, because his father’s too far gone to come home.


End file.
